"Long-Brow Warrior" Wu Sheng fixed his cold, grim gaze on Law King Li Rui and said in a low voice,"Who are you? Why meddle in the Fire-Worship Sect's affairs?"
Law King Li Rui of the Manichean Sect replied just as gravely,"I am Li Rui, Law King of the Manichean Sect. My sworn brother is in danger—how could I stand by and pretend not to see?"
His upright bearing and burning righteousness needed no further explanation.
Wu Sheng snorted."You're asking for it. You won't believe it till you see your coffin; you won't give up till you hit the Yellow River. Today, your brother will not escape disaster!"
Li Rui knew these men disdained taking advantage of the weak, but that hardly made them gentlemen. In the Jianghu, one survived by skill alone.
He said,"Rumor has it your Thirty-Six Roads of Arhat Fist strike with the force of a tiger and are nearly unmatched. I, Li Rui, am here precisely to test those skills."
Wu Sheng replied,"I've long heard that Law King Li Rui of the Manichean Sect possesses exceptional martial arts, and that your sect's Pure Wind Palm is formidable. To witness such skill today—I could die without regret. Please… show me."
Arhat Fist emphasized hand methods such as blocking, forcing, charging, dodging, pointing, lifting, pressing, hooking, scooping, and casting. Its leg work prized leaping, rolling, sweeping, and snapping. It demanded full coordination of upper and lower body, steps shifting with the hands, the torso swinging like a ship's rudder—ever-changing, agile, both hard and soft at once.
The two men saluted before fighting. Courtesy was courtesy, but beneath the polite words neither man harbored any illusions.
Li Rui adopted his opening stance and said coolly,"Forgive my offense."
The words had barely fallen when he let out a fierce shout, palms surging forward. In an instant, a vicious flurry of palm strikes whipped up gusts of internal force; his right hand shot forward like lightning, straight and powerful.
Wu Sheng shifted his body, weaving and sidestepping. A fierce glint flashed in his eyes as he suddenly leapt into the air—then his fists came pouring down like rain. In the blink of an eye, Li Rui felt a crashing weight rushing toward him, as if thunder were splitting his skull from above. A surge of force pressed down on his head.
Startled, he lifted both sleeves high, sending up twin palms to meet the incoming strikes while retreating and pivoting, his movements ghostlike. In that instant he unleashed the Pure Wind Palm. His body turned sideways, his foot touched down lightly, and with a twist he executed "Sun Hanging in the Sky"—body shooting upward, then flipping down, palm descending in a whistling arc.
With "Light That Shines Ten Thousand Ages," his palm came crashing straight down.
Wu Sheng saw the incoming strike and found he had nowhere to flee. He could only raise a palm to meet it.
BOOM!
His body trembled and he stumbled backward. Li Rui did not relent; seven linked palms followed in a rushing chain. Wu Sheng dodged and twisted, but could not keep up. With another heavy CRACK, he took a direct hit. Shocked to the core, he leapt desperately backward.
Li Rui, however, did not pursue. He clasped his fists and said,"Thank you for letting me win."
The Fire-Worship disciples felt their blood surge as they watched. Cheers and shouts erupted like waves, and thunderous applause rolled around the hall for a long time before it faded.
As the saying goes, "Those who come are seldom kind, and the kind seldom come."Law King Shi Ming had long planned to seize control of the Fire-Worship Sect, and both Zhao Ke and the Sect Master were on their guard.
Shi Ming knew well that Zhao Ke was honest and loyal, and that he had made many friends in the Jianghu. So he had invited top martial experts in advance to support his move. What he had not expected was that Li Rui, Law King of the Manichean Sect, would come to Zhao Ke's aid.
There is another saying: "If the mountain will not turn, the road will—and if the road will not turn, the water will still connect." To speak of Li Rui is to speak of a man of rare genius—both scholar and warrior, a peerless figure in the martial world. Besides his superb martial arts and fierce loyalty, he was well-versed in the classics, histories, and philosophical texts. His writings filled shelves, and nearly all the Manichean scriptures had passed through his hands.
Suddenly, with a sharp whoosh, a figure shot forth like lightning.
It was a thin, small man in his fifties, narrow-eyed, a Judge's Brush in his hand—"Silver-Hook Judge" Qin He.
Qin He's sword-like brows rose. So the Manichean Sect hides a master such as this, he thought, a murderous glint in his eyes.
"Law King Li Rui," he said coldly, "I am Qin He. Allow me to test your skill."
Again: those who come are seldom kind.
Seeing the Judge's Brush in the man's hand, Li Rui's brows arched. He asked in a clear voice,"Are you the 'Silver-Hook Judge' himself?"
Qin He answered, "I am."
Li Rui knew this man's martial arts were fearsome and that his paired Judge's Brushes had run rampant across the martial world. He, by contrast, fought bare-handed and knew nothing of weapons. Just as he was about to reply, another figure soared into the arena and landed lightly.
It was Zhao Ke.
Zhao Ke was every inch a true man. This matter concerned the Fire-Worship Sect; these were no ordinary opponents, and how could he let Li Rui continue to fight on his behalf?
He called out in a clear, ringing voice,"Brother, rest for now. Let me go first. If I fail, it will not be too late for you to step in."
Qin He gave a cold laugh."I have heard that Law King Zhao's Flame Palm is peerless—a force not to be taken lightly. Let us cross hands and see."
Zhao Ke replied,"Your paired Judge's Brushes dominate the Jianghu and rarely meet an equal. I am but a humble student—allow me to learn from you."
With that, he gave a slight bow, then sank into a solid horse stance. His qi settled calmly into his dantian, flowed through six meridians, and gathered at his sea of energy. At the same time, his hands crossed before him, his right arm suddenly spiraling outward with a sweeping motion that split the air. His twin palms began to roar like wind.
"Forgive my offense!" he shouted.
His robes billowed. In the next instant, his body shot forward like a bolt, palm winds hissing and cracking as he launched his attack. All around them, Fire-Worship disciples broke into thunderous applause.
In a flash, Qin He raised his paired Judge's Brushes and swept them out in a blinding arc. Their force was tremendous. The two men clashed in a storm of blows and counters, each unleashing his finest techniques.
Qin He's brushes flew like twin meteors—now high, now low, now left, now right—fast and unrelenting. His strokes linked together seamlessly, movements rising and falling, twisting and surging, ensnaring Zhao Ke in a web of attacks.
Zhao Ke's Flame Palm was exquisite, yet at this crucial moment for the Fire-Worship Sect, he moved with extreme caution—steady, methodical, advancing step by step. He dared not relax for even a heartbeat, fearing that the slightest mistake would let Qin He's twin brushes pierce his defenses and strike home.